Jesper
Today is the day.
Today is the day his sentence as the clown's prisoner is up.
Jesper can leave Sylva. He can return to Ischia; to home, to sweet Lamb, to Deiti, to Brennen - his King and, grandsire - and, his Brothers. The jet black stallion feels the utmost relief. He is exhausted, physically and mentally. His fierce loyalty hangs on by a thread and, while he no longer fears what Sylva can do to him, he is plagued by a new worry. How will he be received by his king? He broke his promise to Brennen. He let himself get hurt. Jesper did so in order to learn their true powers; their strengths and weaknesses.
Yet, he feels ashamed for breaking his word.
Brennen will surely be disappointed.
Despite the prospect of a reprimand, Jesper cannot bear to stay here one more day. He wants nothing more than to be safe, in the comforts of Ischia and, his family. The ebony stag is grateful that the red-nosed clown does nothing to thwart his escape. He receives no farewell bids from Modicum Mortem or, any of his minions. He does not hear a single snide or, threatening remark as he nears the Sylvan border.
Though, it is not like his exit march is victorious. On the contrary, it is slow, almost painstakingly so, as Jesper fights the fog of fatigue and, the disorienting nature of darkness. The edge of the shadow, cast down by the amber canopy above, contrasts starkly with the exposed grounds of Loess. While under Sylva's grasp, he experienced no distinct change between the seasons. The onyx stallion never felt respite from the relentless, bitter cold or, the darkness of winter. Of course, that likely could be due to his inability to distinguish between the harsh season and, the residents. As he approaches the border of the vast forest, he finds his pace slowing and, his strides shortening as he physically tries to shrink away from the brightness. Long-lashed eyelids blink rapidly as a result of the abrupt transition ahead of him. The intense glow of the summer sun blinds him and, quad pillars cease their forward motion. The brightness causes a dull throb to pound just behind eyes and, for a moment, the onyx male lingers here. Then, from somewhere inside, a voice reminds him, You made it this far, Jesper. You did what you came to do and, you survived the hardest part. Now, pull yourself together. You must carry on. You promised Lamb. You promised you would come home. You must keep going for her and, for your Brothers. Ischia is counting on you.
He gathers himself and, cautiously, steps out onto the open knoll of Loess. At first, the light is harsh and, it forces Jesper to retreat within himself. Lids close protectively over eyes as the daystar's rays envelop him. Nares flare to draw their first breath of mildew-free air, since autumn, into bruised lungs. Air sacs inflate appropriately; however, the expansion of the tender tissue rouses the residual sting left behind by the murky waters of the lake. The early summer sun highlights his external physique in both the ways it has changed and, remained the same. His hooves are intact; no more jagged or cracked from his torture than if Jesper had not been Sylva's captive. His limbs bear the classic lines of a desert bred equine with no signs of displacement or, repaired breaks. His sleek ebony canvas reveals significant damage caused by the Fire Starter. Patches of fine fur along his left flank and, stifle are singed off to show the bare, blistered charcoal skin underneath. The scratches on the left side of his nape are still bald from the abrasive stones of the lake bottom. Though more dreadlocked and, intertwined with forest debris, his mane and tail hang at full length and, still carry the bronze highlights he earned in the Beqanna Games. Lastly, his eyes, now shielded by upper lids, are still light blue though, the hue has faded and, the shine is more dull.
He soon feels the gentle and nurturing warmth of the day seep into his pores. The stiffness, in his muscles and joints, seems to melt away and, before long, onyx stallion feels reinvigorated; his energy renewed. Jesper pushes himself into a casual walk, over the rough plains of Loess, and, does not spare one look behind him. He heads north to the River, the common land between the mainland and, his island home. He occasionally stumbles, out of fatigue, over the uneven terrain, though, he wills quad limbs to keep going; to mechanically place one hoof in front of the other. Unaware of how long he had traveled or, what landmarks he passed, Jesper only halts when bronze-tipped lobes pick up the distinct squelch of his unshod keratin sinking into the fertile River bed.
Lobes, then, hone in on the currents of the large stream rushing by. Aquamarine gaze focuses upon its rapid flow and, the shifting bank he finds himself sinking into. All at once, Jesper is back in Sylva. Senses trigger mind to slip into his nightmare at the lake. Jesper can taste the algae-tainted water on his tongue. He can feel the cold and slippery liquid wrapping under his chin and, over the bridge of his nose. His lungs scream as if the frigid liquid is rushing in and, choking out his oxygen. Ebony stallion finally pulls out of daze but, enters a complete state of panic. Poll shoots up and, eyes roll back into sockets before limbs scramble into reverse. Jesper finds himself upon solid earth soon enough and, as dread escapes from form, large exhale passes through nasal caverns. He stares blankly at the River as it continues on its journey, unphased. In the distance, he can make out the dense foliage of Ischia, beckoning him home. He steps forward, gingerly, wanting to press on. Aquamarine gaze refocuses to survey the width of the water channel before him for a sand bar or, stepping stones or, even a fallen tree. Jesper finds nothing in his immediate vicinity and thus, decides to follow the River downstream, eastbound, in search of a shallow place to cross.
Tired limbs march stag along the southern bank while glossy pools frantically search. Jesper continues downstream while the River rages on beside him. The melted snow and recent spring rains have added to its volume and, there appear to be no safe depths to cross. In desperation, a cry emits from vocal chords, loud enough to be heard across the bay. He could not do this alone. He could not bring himself to face the unknown depths of the River, alone. He stumbles once more, except this time, he does not remain upright. His left cannon bone slides into the lush grass bed. Before long, right front limb folds at patella to bring Jesper to his knees. Haunches soon lower with hind limbs folding beneath barrel and, there, the stag yields to his fatigue and, basks in the warmth of the daystar. Poll lowers until chin rests among the soft grass and, before long, eyelids grow heavy.
Today is the day his sentence as the clown's prisoner is up.
Jesper can leave Sylva. He can return to Ischia; to home, to sweet Lamb, to Deiti, to Brennen - his King and, grandsire - and, his Brothers. The jet black stallion feels the utmost relief. He is exhausted, physically and mentally. His fierce loyalty hangs on by a thread and, while he no longer fears what Sylva can do to him, he is plagued by a new worry. How will he be received by his king? He broke his promise to Brennen. He let himself get hurt. Jesper did so in order to learn their true powers; their strengths and weaknesses.
Yet, he feels ashamed for breaking his word.
Brennen will surely be disappointed.
Despite the prospect of a reprimand, Jesper cannot bear to stay here one more day. He wants nothing more than to be safe, in the comforts of Ischia and, his family. The ebony stag is grateful that the red-nosed clown does nothing to thwart his escape. He receives no farewell bids from Modicum Mortem or, any of his minions. He does not hear a single snide or, threatening remark as he nears the Sylvan border.
Though, it is not like his exit march is victorious. On the contrary, it is slow, almost painstakingly so, as Jesper fights the fog of fatigue and, the disorienting nature of darkness. The edge of the shadow, cast down by the amber canopy above, contrasts starkly with the exposed grounds of Loess. While under Sylva's grasp, he experienced no distinct change between the seasons. The onyx stallion never felt respite from the relentless, bitter cold or, the darkness of winter. Of course, that likely could be due to his inability to distinguish between the harsh season and, the residents. As he approaches the border of the vast forest, he finds his pace slowing and, his strides shortening as he physically tries to shrink away from the brightness. Long-lashed eyelids blink rapidly as a result of the abrupt transition ahead of him. The intense glow of the summer sun blinds him and, quad pillars cease their forward motion. The brightness causes a dull throb to pound just behind eyes and, for a moment, the onyx male lingers here. Then, from somewhere inside, a voice reminds him, You made it this far, Jesper. You did what you came to do and, you survived the hardest part. Now, pull yourself together. You must carry on. You promised Lamb. You promised you would come home. You must keep going for her and, for your Brothers. Ischia is counting on you.
He gathers himself and, cautiously, steps out onto the open knoll of Loess. At first, the light is harsh and, it forces Jesper to retreat within himself. Lids close protectively over eyes as the daystar's rays envelop him. Nares flare to draw their first breath of mildew-free air, since autumn, into bruised lungs. Air sacs inflate appropriately; however, the expansion of the tender tissue rouses the residual sting left behind by the murky waters of the lake. The early summer sun highlights his external physique in both the ways it has changed and, remained the same. His hooves are intact; no more jagged or cracked from his torture than if Jesper had not been Sylva's captive. His limbs bear the classic lines of a desert bred equine with no signs of displacement or, repaired breaks. His sleek ebony canvas reveals significant damage caused by the Fire Starter. Patches of fine fur along his left flank and, stifle are singed off to show the bare, blistered charcoal skin underneath. The scratches on the left side of his nape are still bald from the abrasive stones of the lake bottom. Though more dreadlocked and, intertwined with forest debris, his mane and tail hang at full length and, still carry the bronze highlights he earned in the Beqanna Games. Lastly, his eyes, now shielded by upper lids, are still light blue though, the hue has faded and, the shine is more dull.
He soon feels the gentle and nurturing warmth of the day seep into his pores. The stiffness, in his muscles and joints, seems to melt away and, before long, onyx stallion feels reinvigorated; his energy renewed. Jesper pushes himself into a casual walk, over the rough plains of Loess, and, does not spare one look behind him. He heads north to the River, the common land between the mainland and, his island home. He occasionally stumbles, out of fatigue, over the uneven terrain, though, he wills quad limbs to keep going; to mechanically place one hoof in front of the other. Unaware of how long he had traveled or, what landmarks he passed, Jesper only halts when bronze-tipped lobes pick up the distinct squelch of his unshod keratin sinking into the fertile River bed.
Lobes, then, hone in on the currents of the large stream rushing by. Aquamarine gaze focuses upon its rapid flow and, the shifting bank he finds himself sinking into. All at once, Jesper is back in Sylva. Senses trigger mind to slip into his nightmare at the lake. Jesper can taste the algae-tainted water on his tongue. He can feel the cold and slippery liquid wrapping under his chin and, over the bridge of his nose. His lungs scream as if the frigid liquid is rushing in and, choking out his oxygen. Ebony stallion finally pulls out of daze but, enters a complete state of panic. Poll shoots up and, eyes roll back into sockets before limbs scramble into reverse. Jesper finds himself upon solid earth soon enough and, as dread escapes from form, large exhale passes through nasal caverns. He stares blankly at the River as it continues on its journey, unphased. In the distance, he can make out the dense foliage of Ischia, beckoning him home. He steps forward, gingerly, wanting to press on. Aquamarine gaze refocuses to survey the width of the water channel before him for a sand bar or, stepping stones or, even a fallen tree. Jesper finds nothing in his immediate vicinity and thus, decides to follow the River downstream, eastbound, in search of a shallow place to cross.
Tired limbs march stag along the southern bank while glossy pools frantically search. Jesper continues downstream while the River rages on beside him. The melted snow and recent spring rains have added to its volume and, there appear to be no safe depths to cross. In desperation, a cry emits from vocal chords, loud enough to be heard across the bay. He could not do this alone. He could not bring himself to face the unknown depths of the River, alone. He stumbles once more, except this time, he does not remain upright. His left cannon bone slides into the lush grass bed. Before long, right front limb folds at patella to bring Jesper to his knees. Haunches soon lower with hind limbs folding beneath barrel and, there, the stag yields to his fatigue and, basks in the warmth of the daystar. Poll lowers until chin rests among the soft grass and, before long, eyelids grow heavy.
jesper
carnage x bethanie
OOC: Basically, Jesper has PTSD from being near-drowned by Maugrim. He needs some help. Of course, you do not all have to reply. I just figured since you are Jesper's family, you might like to be here. Thank you for your patience while I tortured my beloved pony <3
@[Brennen] @[Lavendel] <3
Andromeda, @[Mosrael] is welcome! I also was not sure what the limits of her water immunity are and/or, if her trait could help. <3
@[Neo] - I did not tag Deiti because you said she was closeted but, she is welcome to reply (if you feel up to it). <3
ANY Ischian/Nerinian (@[Leilan]?) who would like to be here to support their brother, is welcome. <3